Everything I Never Knew I Wanted
by larin20
Summary: A city girl who never wanted to fall in love does exactly that with the one man who isn't good for her. A country boy who is too content with standing still never thought love would matter until it was at his feet. Love happens, unexpectedly. A/H OOC BxE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello folks! Here's is the new story that I have wanted to write for a long time. I want to thank KlrTwiLuver for all the encouragement to write this plot bunny I had since last July. She has graciously agreed to pre-read and lend me her words of wisdom. **

**Of course, I wouldn't lift a finger in fandom without MissAlex. She's again my wonderful beta and most importantly one of my best friends. **

**Also, importantly I want to mention that Treading Water and Every October have not been forgotten. Both stories are very important to me and MissAlex. But I gotta spread my wings, ya'll. I needed some freshness to my life and this is where I begin. **

**This is a 75% true romance. **

Prologue

"Do you love him?" he asked, his head pointed toward the ground. He looked defeated.

I breathed in deeply, trying to capture any composure I had left. "Yes," I said simply.

Finally, his eyes met mine. The torture laced in them was so easy to read. "Why him? Why couldn't it be me?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't. I don't understand, Bella." He took a step closer. "Please, explain it to me, because I know you love me. I know it."

A tear slipped from my eye and rolled down my cheek. The broken man before me reached out and captured it with his index finger, trailing the wetness down to my chin, and neck. My skin erupted in gooseflesh; the feeling of his hot skin touching mine still affected me greatly.

"I do love you," I replied. "I always will, but with him, I don't feel like there is an end. I feel like I can go on forever with him and never stop. All I see is him, all I want is him, and I've never felt that way before with anyone, not even with you. With you, I knew there would be a point where we would stop. And I was right. We stopped, _you _stopped…."

Cupping my cheek in his hand, he took another step closer. Too close. "I never stopped loving you."

I shook my head, overwhelmed by the painful truth. "You never started."

**Real facts from this prologue: **

**It all happened **

**I will be posting chapter one hopefully tonight and then I plan to update soonish rather than not. I'm not going to promise a schedule yet. I'm busy editing for the TWCS Publishing House at the moment. **

**Let me know what you think, also give me your guesses who the unnamed man is above.**

**Follow me on Twitter: Larin20**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Again, thank you to MissAlex for the very quick beta job and KlrTwiluver for pre-reading. You both are near and dear to me! **

**So in the prologue, I asked if you could guess who the unnamed man was. No one guessed correctly. Muahahahaha! I did give out some hints in some review replies.**

Chapter One

Nothing was worse than waking up in a strange room, with a foreign alarm clock screaming at you to get up, and the worst headache known to womankind. I cracked one eye open and glared at the clock, reading the time. "Fuck!" I murmured into the dark room. The body next to me stirred and snorted, but didn't wake up. Thank God. I needed to make a quiet exit. I gave the alarm clock one last stink eye before rolling over on my back. It was only 1:45 a.m. If I was home, I wouldn't have to be up for another hour, but since I was presently laying in a the bed of Lance – no Logan – I had to get up and run home for clothes in order to make it to work on time. And Lance/Logan, whatever, lived in Kirkwood which meant it would take me twenty-five minutes to make it home, shower, change, and grab food before driving the additional thirty minutes downtown. So I really only had five minutes to get ready. Jesus, I was going to be late today.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and fumbled blindly for my clothes on the floor. After many nights like this, I had mastered the art of feeling around in the dark. Also, I always made sure to notice where my clothes were flung in the heat of passion so I wouldn't have to scramble to find them when I needed to leave. And I always left before sunrise. I wasn't interested in staying for the "morning after". Blech! The last thing I wanted was to see what my beer-goggles didn't' let me the night before.

I dressed fast and found my purse by the coffee table in the living room. A light from the kitchen lit my way toward the door and I left, locking the door behind me. I might have been leaving without a word, but I was nice enough to lock the door. I shouldered my purse and opened my car door. Without a look back, I drove down the street in the direction of my house.

Well, my parent's house, if I had to be technical about it.

Being twenty-five years old, fifteen thousand dollars in debt – not student loan debt, but just plain debt- and no break in sight insured that I would be living with my folks for at least the next five years, or ten. God, I hoped not ten.

I made it home in record time, because, as usual, I drove like a maniac. Good thing it was mostly highway driving, and knock on wood, no cops.

I snuck in the front door; the dark house echoed every little sound I made. I kicked off my heels on the carpet and proceeded to hit every creak in the floor. Even though I was twenty-five and a capable adult, living with my parents, Charlie and Renee, always made me feel like I was perpetually sixteen. Tiptoeing down the stairs to my basement bedroom, I glanced at my watch and mentally cursed myself for taking too long to sneak into my own house, again.

The shower calmed me down some. I was beginning to panic about being ten minutes late to work. Most people wouldn't care much, but in my line of work, timing was everything. I produced the morning news for KSDK News Channel Five, here in St. Louis. I had a couple of stories I needed to work on before the first break-in of the morning, plus I needed to edit the reel of an interview with Mayor Slay for the noon show. Our station manager, Mike Newton was a classic chauvinistic prick, and I never wanted to give him any ammunition to think that I couldn't get the job done or the news out when it broke. Working in TV in St. Louis was a very competitive business. General Managers were very fickle and if you slipped up big enough just once, you were out the door. And forget about referrals. Once you screwed up, everyone in the business knew. Mike always lamented that a minute late was a minute lost in news time. This was very true. For being a major jerk, he had the best head for the news I had ever seen. Mike knew how to get the leads and he knew that if you missed just a single minute it could mean a mile in the ratings. And you know, the news wasn't' the important thing, the ratings were. I needed to be at the news desk a.s.a.p. to check the police blotter and see if anything happened while I was giving fellatio to Lance/Logan.

Which reminded me, I needed to gargle twice when I got out of the shower. Lance/Logan had asparagus last night – which he failed to inform me of - and my mouth tasted like ass _and asparagus_.

I kept my shower short and hurried to brush my teeth – gargling twice – and then got dressed. The beautiful thing about working in the news business and the early hours I kept was that I could stroll in wearing my sweats if I wanted. The dress code was very lax for the newsroom. Of course, on meeting days, I would dress business casual – which included my nicest jeans- and be good to go. But today, being already late meant my nicest sweats and cardigan would be my haute couture.

After flying upstairs to the kitchen and grabbing some frozen Eggos, I jumped into my car and hightailed it to the station. Thankfully, traffic was non-existent at this time of morning and I made it just barely before 3:30. I parked my Sebring on 10th and walked/jogged toward security. I hated walking in downtown St. Louis so early in the morning by myself. The crazies were usually still out trolling the streets. I had my share of run-ins in the past but there was a nice homeless man who slept in the park across from the courts building that liked to walk me to the station door. Without fail, Stefan was waiting for me on the curb next to my building.

"Good morning, Ms. Swan. It would my pleasure to assist you." Stefan repeated the same line to me every morning. Usually, slurred. He took my hand and helped me to the sidewalk. Stefan was a heavy drinker who couldn't shake the hold the bottle had on him. As far as I knew he has been homeless for the last thirteen years and was completely fine with it. He was the sweetest man and took pride walking the station staff- often times the ladies- into the building every morning.

"Why, kind sir, I thank you very much." I smiled and patted his back. Stefan chuckled at my usual line which I fed him every morning. So far, Stefan was the only constant man I had in my life besides my father. I knew he would be there every morning and I appreciated his friendship. He was definitely a man I didn't mind seeing first thing in the morning.

"Ms. Swan, it has brightened my day to have helped you. Please, take my kindness and spread it to all you meet." With that, he let go of my hand and bowed. Such a gentleman.

I giggled and curtsied. "I will!"

I entered my access code into the keypad and waved to Stan, the security guard, as I walked into the building and breathed a sigh of relief that I was on time. Taking the stairs down to the lower level, I found that the news room was quiet, which translated into slow news night. Jake Black, our entertainment reporter, had his feet propped up on his desk, leaning back in his chair, sleeping. He wasn't supposed to be here this early but we were sending him out to Belleville, Illinois, across the river, to a corn maze for one of our October remotes. He was reporting live and it typically took an hour to get there so I wasn't surprised he came in early to sleep. Lucky for me, his desk was next to mine.

I knocked his feet off his desk. "Wake up, you goober! You're snoring again."

With a snort, Jake jumped, almost falling out of his chair. "God, Bella! I was sleeping here."

"Ya, I know, and you don't want Mike to see you, do you?"

"Fuck Mike! That douchebag can suck my dick. I'm a freaking entertainment reporter, who could replace my ass?"

"Tim Ezell." I stated matter-of-factly. Tim Ezell was our competition's entertainment reporter at Fox. Unfortunately, Tim had better ratings than Jake.

"That's low, Bella."

"Then don't sleep on the job."

"Fine, point taken," he complied, getting up and stretching. His abs peeked through the bottom of his shirt, giving me a fine show of his hard body. I could admit that Jake was incredibly good looking, but I didn't dare dip in the work place. "So, what's up with the hot clothes? Another late night?" he asked.

I ducked my head, trying not to give any indication as to how late my night was. "You could say that."

Jake leaned against my desk, crossing his feet at the ankles and his arms over his broad chest, looking entirely too cocky. "When are you going to have a "late night" with me? You know, I can get you to work on time, I only live down Washington. "

He was right; I could make it to work in time if I took him up on his offer. The ass only lived nine blocks from the station in a loft off Washington Ave. He biked to work. Not motorcycle biked, but Schwin biked. Too bad I wasn't interested.

"As much fun as I would have riding on your handlebars, Jake, I think I'm going to pass."

"Your loss, baby. Everyone wants to take a ride on the Jakenator!" He started to hump my desk.

Ew."That's another reason why I won't sleep with you." I slapped his arm. "You literately are the village bicycle. Everyone has had a ride. And will you stop humping my desk, who did you say was a douchebag again?"

"Suck it up, Swan. You love this!" He gestured toward himself.

I rolled my eyes. "You're right. I can't get enough of your hotness." I took my purse off my shoulder and started rummaging for my keys. "Now, here, take my key -in my truck is your costume for the remote. Mike said that he wanted you to have a festive vibe to the shoot today."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "I don't like the sound of that."

I dangled my keys in front of his face and gave him my best puppy dog eyes. "It's for the kids, Jake. Do it for the kids."

"I'm dressing up as a dog or something, aren't I?"

I smiled and patted his cheek. "Oh, you'll see."

Jake snatched my keys, rolling his eyes as he walked away, grumbling. I couldn't help but laugh. "Don't forget to tell Glen to take truck four!" I shouted after him. He waved his hand over his head without turning around.

I was still smiling as I sat down and booted up my computer. I had a couple of messages on my desk regarding a fatal accident on I-44 from the overnight news desk guy. I knew that it would be a leading story so I began gathering details when I felt a presence behind me. I didn't have to turn around; I saw his hulking frame reflected in the TV monitor to my left.

"Can I help you, Mike?" I asked, clicking through my email.

"Is Black on his way?"

Of course, Mike probably saw Jake leave, but being the micro-manager he was, he had to ask me.

"Yep, he just left."

"Did you get him the costume?"

"Yes, Mike."

"Did you see the fatal on 44?" I turned around; Mike had his hand in his pockets and he rocked back and forth on his heels. The man was very unnerving. He was thirty-eight, single, and not bad looking, but his personality sucked ass. As far as I knew, the man lived and breathed the news. No social life whatsoever. He was probably a closet freak, for all I knew. The man didn't share much about himself.

"Yes," I responded dryly. "I was just about to put together something and call State Patrol."

"Good." Mike started to walk away before stopping. "Don't forget the Slay piece is due to production by 11:30." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, did you get my text last night?"

I scrunched up my nose, reaching for my phone. "I don't remember seeing a text from you."

"I asked you if you could be here at three. I needed you to go over the prompts for Jessica Stanley."

Fuck! Jessica Stanley was our new morning anchor and apparent hothead. This was her first week and she still needed a little handholding. She was fresh out of school with little practical knowledge of broadcasting behind her. The rumor was that what she did have _behind_ her was our General Manager, but that was just hearsay at the moment. Looking though my texts, I felt so pissed at myself. Sure enough, I had a text come in at ten p.m. from Mike, asking me to come in a half hour early for prompt work with JS.

Stupid Lance/Logan fellatio distracted me!

"I'm sorry, Mike. I don't know what to say. I didn't see the text until now."

Huffing, Mike responded, "There's no point in worrying about it now. When I didn't get a reply from you, I decided to come in to show Jessica the prompts instead. But next time, Bella, keep your phone on the nightstand."

What was that supposed to mean? Did he know I wasn't at home last night?

Mike palmed his Blackberry. "I never leave this thing out of my sight, even in the shower. I put it in a plastic sandwich baggie; it's the only way to go. The news never sleeps. I suggest you do the same."

Gross, he showered with his phone.

Then it dawned on me. He just wanted me to keep my phone by me at all times. "Okay, Mike. I will." I rolled my eyes and twirled around in my chair. Mike stalked away, shouting morning greetings to the other producers as I chastised myself for not using my phone as my alarm clock at Lance/Logan's house. If I would have done so, I would have known about the text. Great, now Mike was going to be on my case all day. And I was going to have to make sure that Jessica was really okay with the teleprompter. Mike wasn't a very good instructor. He probably gave her the basics and was done with it.

I finished up my story on the fatal, and sent out a couple of emails. Checking the time, I assumed that Jessica would be in the dressing room by now, so I made my way down the hall. I stopped at the kitchen to grab two cups of coffee and some creamers. Before I even got to the closed door, I could hear Jessica banging around inside.

I knocked softly before entering. "Good morning," I said, handing an already frantic Jessica a cup of coffee.

Jessica took the cup and set it right down on the counter, ignoring it as she peered in the mirror, fluffing her hair. "Do you know where Alice is? She's late and my hair is terrible today. Ahh! Do you have a flatiron stuffed in your sweats?"

"No, I only keep styling products in my dress pants."

Jessica threw up her arms. "Where is that girl? I swear she's the most flighty woman I've ever met! Did you know she tried to convince me yesterday to do a smoky eye? A smoky eye, Bella! I don't want to look Goth!

"I'm sure she was just trying to make sure your eyes popped on camera. Alice knows how much the lights can wash you out. Trust her; she knows what she is doing."

"I trust her to make me look more Ann Currie, not Greta Van Susteren."

I snorted because that was just ridiculous "Jessica, she'll be here. It's only four, you don't go on until five-thirty, there is plenty of time." I took her hands, and sat her down. "Now calm down. We need to go over prompts."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just jittery. Mike made me nervous when he tried to explain them earlier." She took her coffee and sipped it.

"Mike has that effect on all of us."

Jessica placed her hand on my arm. "Bella, how do you work with him?"

"Well, it's not without a lot of hard work," I said, thinking about how annoying Mike could be.

She looked across the room with a dreamy expression on her face. "God, don't I know it."

M'kay. That was weird. She almost looked a little lovesick. I shook off the thought quickly.

I took a seat next to her and explained the prompts for the morning show once again. I also scheduled a run through at five so she could practice before we went live. Even though she was still green, Jessica was a fast learner and I was confident that her first week would go well.

Alice came bopping in at exactly 4:30, looking entirely too awake and too polished for the early hour. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt with a white button down frilly blouse. Her red pumps completed her look along with the pearls around her neck. I looked down at myself and back at Alice, wondering when I started not caring about what I wore.

As if reading my mind, Alice scrunched up her face, looking me over. "Bella, is there any given week when you don't wear your sweats to work?"

"Nope." I shrugged. "I like to be comfortable."

"You can be comfortable in clothes like mine," she said cheerfully, waving her hand over her skirt.

"Are you wearing a G-string?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then no, I can't."

Alice rolled her perfectly lined eyes. "Ugh, Bella, you're impossible. I bet you're wearing granny panties."

I scoffed. She assumed way too much. "I beg your pardon; I have boy shorts on and a matching bra. I'm not completely useless when it comes to these things."

Alice clapped her hands together before opening her makeup case. "Thank goodness, I don't know how you date like you do."

"Thank goodness, you're finally doing my makeup," Jessica muttered as she positioned herself on the stool next to Alice.

"Oh, shush, you'll take five minutes, Jessica." Jessica puffed up her cheeks in annoyance.

"Anyway, I don't date, Alice. I have intimate encounters."

She smiled, blotting a makeup sponge in foundation, and then applying it to Jessica's fair complexion. "Such a little slut, you are. Is that why you're dressed like that today, no time to get ready after running away from whatever stud you landed last night?"

Stud? Well, I guess if you had to call all of my one-night stands something, stud would be it. I tended to keep my liaisons to myself. I wasn't big on blabbing to the world that I was a whorey slut who picked up men just to fuck and never see them again.

I was a lady, after all.

I glared at Alice, backing away toward the door. I really didn't want to discuss this, especially in front of our new anchor who didn't know me or my reason for not having relationships.

"I don't runaway, Alice. I avoid the awkward." I cleared my throat. "Now finish Jessica, she needs to be on set by five."

"All right, all right, she'll be ready. Her skin is beautiful, I'm just going to play up her eyes and blow out her hair."

Jessica stopped Alice's hand with her own, giving her a piercing stare. "No smoky eyes."

Alice put her other hand on her hip, staring back at Jessica. "You're worse than this one." Alice thumbed my way. "How about a heavy neutral eye, then?"

Jessica's shoulders slumped. "Okay, but no grays or blacks."

Alice gave me a funny look. "Can you believe her?"

"I know, how dare her!" I joked, winking at Jessica who smiled back.

I reached for the door when Alice stopped me again.

"Oh, Bella, don't forget about tomorrow." Her smile was radiant.

I came back to give her a quick hug. "I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world. I'll be there with bells on!"

The morning newscast started without a hitch. Jessica made it to set – heavy neutral eyes and all- and quickly went over her prompts before the first break-in. I sat behind the cameraman with my headset on, talking to the director until the end of the first segment. I was the 5:30 to 7:30 producer so I needed to check in on Jake for his first cut. We broke to commercial and I quickly dialed Jake's phone to make sure he was set for his first hit.

It rang once.

"You got to be fucking kidding me!" Jake roared, making me hold the phone away from my ear. I already knew why he was pissed. The costume.

"You only have to wear it while the Girl Scout troupe is on during this segment," I replied. "Just chill out."

"Bella! I'm dressed as a giant pumpkin!"

"Well, you are at a corn maze ….and_ pumpkin patch_. What better to dress as than an enormous, orange pumpkin?" I tried to sound reassuring, but really, this was all Mike's idiotic idea. He always wanted Jake to be wacky and crazy, hence the costume.

"You're so paying me back for this."

"Come on, it's not that bad. The kids are going to love it. Just keep the energy up, no one wants to see a grumpy jack-o-lantern." I snickered as Jake started growling into the phone. "Stop being such a baby, I'll buy you a drink tonight, okay?"

"Fine, but I'm not forgetting about this."

"Ya, ya. You're on in five."

"River City," he grunted as he hung up the phone.

Wonderful. He was going to make me buy him a drink at the slummiest bar in south city. He knew I hated that place.

Jake played it up for the camera like he usually did; you couldn't even tell he hated the costume. Of course, the kids loved it and then Mike congratulated me on a good segment. Which was rare coming from him.

The rest of the morning was smooth. Around 11:30, I was taking the Slay reel to production when Alice stopped me on her way out.

"Bella, I'm glad I caught you." She skipped to catch up with me. "I'm leaving to get ready for the rehearsal tonight but I wanted to make sure to tell you that you needed to look extra special tomorrow."

"Alice, it's your wedding, I'm going to look nice. I'm not going to wear my sweats."

'I know, but maybe you can go get a mani and pedi, or a wax."

"A wax?"

She winked. "You never know."

"What are you going to do, Alice?"

"It's nothing, Bella, really. I just wanted to introduce you to someone. It's a friend of Peter's from high school. I think he would be great for you." Peter, Alice's fiancé, went to high school in the bum fuck country, so this loser was probably a hick.

"Great for me? I don't like the sound of that. I can pick my own men just fine. And I know what you mean. You think he's what I need, not what I want."

"Is it so wrong to want to see one of my best friends happy?"

"No."

"It's just an introduction; I'll let you take over if you're interested. If not, no harm, no foul."

"Are you sure there isn't a way around this?"

Alice pouted. "It's my wedding."

"Yes, I know and I'm so glad that you didn't want a big wedding party. Can I thank you again for not having me wear a bridesmaid's gown?"

"You can, but not in front of Rose. She's still not too fond of black with her skin tone." Rose was Alice's best friend from childhood and she was the only maid - or really matron considering she was married- in the party. Alice chose to have a small, intimate wedding at a vineyard. Since I met Alice here at work, and wasn't a lifelong best friend like Rose, I didn't mind too much when I wasn't asked to be in the wedding party. Rose and I got along wonderfully so I couldn't think of a better person to stand up with one of my best friends.

Alice glanced at her watch. "Oh my god! I have to go. Peter is meeting me at Carmine's for a quick lunch and then we have to go pick up the best man at the airport."

"Okay, have fun!" I yelled at her as she trotted down the long hallway, her heels clicking on the tile. If I knew Alice like I did, she probably had this "induction" planned for a month. I would humor her, though. Like she said, it was her wedding.

"Wait, Alice! What is the love of my life's name anyway?" I called out.

Alice turned around and walked backward with the hugest smile plastered on her face. "Edward, and you'll love him!" She tapped her temple with her finger and winked before turning the corner.

**A/N**

**True facts from chapter one:**

**I did in fact work as a producer for some major news stations. **

**I hate G-strings. **

**I still own a Sebring. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you so much for the response so far. I hope you like what I have to come. **

**A special thank you to MissAlex, my fantablous beta and friend, and also my pre-readers, KlrTwiLuver and Lemonmartinis. All these ladies are my backbone and I love you! **

**KlrTwiLuver also has a new fic called Sugar Daddy posted under The Bond Girls profile, already hot stuff, check it out!**

**I don't own Twilight, but this is a 75% True Romance ;)**

**Chapter 2**

The haze of cigarette smoke hung low in the stale air around the dangling ceiling lights, old crusty men laughed in hearty baritones from their perches on well-worn barstools, the smell of heavy grease wafted in from the cramped kitchen toward the back of the bar, and music from the jukebox played Charlie Daniels. This was my Friday night. What I wouldn't have given for a swank and trendy martini lounge right about now.

Clearing my throat, I dangled the ball rack on my index finger. "Rack 'em, Jake."

Jake shook his head. "Nope, not until you tell me you're sorry." He crossed his meaty arms over his chest, pouting.

What a baby!

I sighed. "I'm not going to tell you I'm sorry. It's part of your job. You know, entertaining people." I leaned against the pool table, tapping my nails on the wooden edge. He had been a grumpy asshole since he made me pick him up this evening, informing me previously of my DD status. Of course, I placated him because I did feel bad about the pumpkin costume thing.

After the remote this morning at the corn maze, Jake couldn't get out of the costume quick enough. Except he couldn't; the zipper broke. He called from the news van on the way back, panicking. I refused to let Ben, his cameraman, cut him out of it since I would be out fifty bucks. So Jake had to walk through the crowded afternoon newsroom dressed as a pumpkin in order to get to wardrobe.

I might have laughed…a lot.

He was not amused, hence my punishment of being appointed DD tonight.

"Entertaining people, yes, but embarrassing myself, no. You need to talk to Mike about toning down the wacky factor of the show and showing off this gun show." Jake kissed both of his bulbous biceps.

I winced. "I didn't need to see that."

Jake placed both his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes sincerely. I almost could see him forming a rational thought before he blurted, "How do you think I'm going to get laid tonight, Bella?"

"Is that the only reason you do your job? To get laid?" I was disgusted. I knew he was joking, but still.

A cocky grin started to form across his lips and he moved an inch too close in my personal space.

"Nuh huh huh!" I backed up, my ass hitting the edge of the pool table as he moved closer, caging me in with his tree trunk arms. "Don't even think about it."

"Come on, B," Jake licked his lips, his eyes roaming over my face and then southbound to my chest. "You, me…it only takes one night and you'll change your tune on inner-office fraternization. I've seen the way you look at me."

I pushed him roughly, but playfully, against his chest. "I look at you because I'm not dead; you are fine." Jake tried to step back to me with a renewed hunger, but I held up my finger to him."Then I remember what an ass you are and the illusion is gone." I waved a hand in the air. "Poof."

"Poof?"

"Yep, all gone." I laughed. "Completely bone dry down in Hoohaville." Jake waggled his eyebrows. "I have methods that are proven to create monsoons in said Hoohavilles, just ask the new intern we have."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you refer to fucking an intern." I pushed him away again.

"She's so eager to please, though. I couldn't resist."

"Don't you have hordes of other women you _don't _work with that you can seduce?"

Jake scoffed. "Not after The Great Pumpkin Caper this morning. Now, I'm going to have to _work_ for it."

I patted Jake's cheek. "Oh, poor baby, having to actually work to get into some chick's pants is really going to kink your style.

He pouted. "It is, you just don't understand, Bella."

"Oh, really? When was the last time you had to_ work_ for it?"

He didn't even have to think about it.

"Never," he said. Then he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Unless you count yourself, but I see you has a challenge, well worth the work."

I mocked slapped him. "You're a dog, you know that?"

Jake fake stumbled backward, laughing louder and avoiding any bodily harm as he took the ball rack from my hands. "You are aware that dog spelled backward is GOD?"

I threw my hands up. "Ugh! You're also a boob which spelled backward is still boob." I turned away from him.

"Bella, you're well aware we're exactly the same. You just don't broadcast the fact you sleep around as much as I do."

"I'm totally different from you."

Jake's eyes narrowed. "When was the last time you saw the same dude twice?"

He got me there.

"Shut up."

"You love me," Jake teased.

"I loathe you," I groaned over my shoulder. "I'm getting a drink and some space. Have the game set up by the time I get back."

I didn't like thinking that Jake and I were on the same playing field. Equals. It bothered me more than I wanted it too. The only thing different about the two of us was that Jake was proud while I was ashamed. I would never admit it though. I loved sex. That wasn't a crime. I was a modern woman in a modern world. There was no reason I couldn't have a healthy non-monogamous sexual lifestyle. However, even though I loved sex, and kept telling myself that I did and it was okay to fuck any guy or the occasional girl, I felt empty. I was scared of love and losing myself in someone so much that I forgot who I was and where me and the other person stopped and started. I'd seen it happen to Gianna. I wasn't going to let it happen to me.

"Sam Adams, please." Jake shouted after me with a toothy grin. I rolled my eyes but nodded as I walked away.

Love wasn't an option; I didn't want it to be.

River City Bar wasn't crowed for a Friday night as usual. Yet for some reason, the place was a favorite of Jake's. We came here about four times a month. Even though Jake lived on Washington Ave. where all the trendiest clubs were, he hated them. He would tell me simply, "_River City is the salt of the earth, Bella, salt of the earth."_ I would tell him in return it was a shithole. And it was. The south city establishment was very small with only five tables scattered throughout the room. Two ratty pool tables lined one wall, while a multitude ofcork dart boards occupied the other. The bar itself was manned by the owner, Liam McCarty, an Irish transplant that started the bar in the late 1960s. He owned the four story building and lived upstairs by himself in one of the two apartments.

He was certainly not a bartender by any only beers on tap were Budweiser, Busch, and Guiness. Liam laughed if you ordered anything that didn't have Johnny Walker, Jack Daniels, or Jim Beam as one of the main ingredients because he wouldn't know how to make anything else that didn't have them in it. There was a sign above the till that affectionately said, "The Three Wise Men or Nothing At All."

Liam was crotchety at best and he called all women "girlie",but I couldn't help but think he had a soft side to his brute-like demeanor. If I looked carefully, hidden on the other side of the till was a picture of a beautiful red-haired woman. The photo looked to be at least twenty years old. A rosary had been draped over one side of the frame in memorial. If asked who she was, Liam eyes would soften before he coughed away the emotion; never answering. The only other person he was close to was his grandson, Emmett, who worked the kitchen on the weekends. Emmett was a very large, muscular man with a shaved head and the same dimples as his grandfather. He didn't speak much. He always kept to himself, never engaging in anything other than the occasional song on the jukebox. Too bad, he was hot.

"What'll you have, girlie?" Liam grunted with his raspy smoker's voice.

"A Sam Adams bottle and a Jack and Diet Coke, please." I grinned and rocked on my heels, holding onto the bar.

Liam smiled slightly, his dimple cratering deep in his cheek. "Comin' up." He then shouted over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "Emmett! Brin' me up some Adams from the cellar." Liam looked back at me. "Be but a tick, girlie," he told me. His accent, although light, was still there.

I thanked Liam and slid a ten and two ones across the bar. Emmett came out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel. He looked at me for a moment and blinked once. I smiled and offered a small wave. He looked over my shoulder then back to me before something crossed over his face like disappointment or maybe annoyance. He didn't return the smile or eye contact as he opened the cellar hatch door behind the bar and disappeared down the stairs into the darkness below.

I looked down at myself to make sure I didn't have any buttons undone or ketchup on my shirt. He never really looked at me before, but now that he had, it unnerved me. "What was that about?" I whispered to myself as I fiddled with a napkin set out by Liam.

"He's moody," someone replied behind me. I jumped; startled by the fact that not only was my question answered, but the husky deep voice that answered made my insides tremble with something I wasn't quite sure about. Lust, maybe?

"Excuse me?" I turned around to see a strikingly handsome man standing a foot away.

The man smirked. "He's a crabby bitch, but he's cool."

"You know him, I take it?" I asked dumbly. Of course he knew him, duh.

The man smiled and pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his hand. "We went to college together at Wash U." He lit the cig with a silver Zippo he plucked from his back pocket. He inhaled deeply, forcing the smoke out of his nose as he continued, "We were in a band."

"Oh."

"How do you know Emmett?" the man asked. He sat down on a one of the ripped vinyl barstools. I followed suit without even thinking about it. The allure of this man already had me. He was incredibly attractive and looking altogether too sexy smoking that cigarette.

"I don't really. I come here sometimes with my friend over there." I pointed toward the pool table Jake had racked the balls on. He was talking very closely to a brunette.

The man swiveled around on his stool and leaned his elbows back on the bar, his smoke hanging from his lips. "Boyfriend?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Most certainly not. He's a co-worker." Liam came back and placed my drink down. I thanked him again and took a sip. The man placed his order of Jack Daniels straight up and looked back at me.

"He's a moron for not being over her with you. You're the most beautiful woman in here." The man grinned with desire in his eyes. I felt a chill run up my spine.

"Thanks," I said coyly, taking his compliment.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm just stating facts."He ashed his cigarette into a nearby tray.

"Really? Because it sounded like a line," I joked.

"A line?A line?" The man feigned offence, holding his heart. "You hurt me, woman. I'm a man who prides himself in never having to resort to pick-up lines. If I really wanted to use one I would say, 'Excuse me, can you empty your pockets? I believe you have stolen my heart' or 'I'm not drunk, I'm intoxicated by you.'"

I giggled.

The man continued. "How about this one, 'I never had a dream come true until the day I met you' or my favorite, 'Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?'"

We bent over laughing, holding our stomachs. "My brother gave me a pocket pick-up line book for my sixteenth birthday," he said. "I read it inside and out. Let me tell you, none of them worked."

My laughter dying down, I wiped the tears from my eyes. "That last one might have worked, just so you know, but sexiness is just my part-time job."

Still smiling, the gorgeous stranger asked, "What is it that you do that only affords you to work the sexiness part-time?"

This was the part of the conversation I hated when I was getting to know someone. When I generally told anyone that I was a TV producer for the leading news station in the city, they either were so impressed and asked a shitload of mundane questions or wanted the dirt on the news personalities.

I warily said, "I'm a news producer at channel five."

"I don't watch TV much. I bet it's fun to work in a newsroom."

"I like it," I said humbly, taking a sip. The whisky was heavy in my drink.

The man grinned. "As long as you like it, that's the important thing."

"Right. So, what do you do?"

He thought for a long minute. "I guess you can say I'm an artist." He took a drink.

"That's so interesting. What's your medium?"

"Um…I weld and sculpt erotica."

I felt my mouth unhinge. "Erotica, no kidding."

He appraised my reaction and smiled. "Have you ever heard of the Museum of Sex in New York City?"

I nodded.

"I have a couple of pieces displayed there. Mostly, I sell to private parties or I'm commissioned outright."

"Wow…As long as you like what you do, huh?"

The man snickered. "You can say that."

Our talk lulled a bit. He sipped his drink some more and looked around the room while I was thinking of him molding and creating erotic art with his skilled hands. Bending metal and moving clay into provocative arrangements of body parts or sexual positions…

I was starting to get warm.

"He seems to making friends with Maria, pretty well," the man observed.

"What?"

"Your friend over there," he pointed toward Jake and the brunette, "Jack?"

"Jake," I corrected.

I swiveled in my seat, taking another look at Jake and the brunette. "Know her?"

The man nodded. "She brought me here. I'm staying at her place this week. We just came from a dinner party tonight. She was my moral support since there were some people not so happy to see me there."

The way he said _Maria_ made me shiver. There was something to him and Maria, so I asked, "Girlfriend?"

The man chuckled, his eyes hooded as he stared back at me. "Sometimes," was all he said. And that was enough to tell me that we were much alike: Not a fan of strings. Perfect.

I gave him the once over again when he looked away, scoping out his butt. He was beautiful. His physique was perfect. He had to work out. He wore tight boot-cut , washed-out jeans with a huge, shiny silver belt buckle in the center of his waist, a faded Black Flag T-shirt hugged his firm-looking chest, and he wore dusty brown cowboy boots. His forearms both were inked and he wore a leather-studded wrist cuff. He looked like a cross between rock-a-billy and cowboy chic. Very yummy.

I immediately thought of my appearance and compared it to Maria's across the room. She had long wavy dark hair, the front pulled up like a pin up. Her shirt was long-sleeved with black and white stripes, tight against her ample breasts. Cinching her small waist was a blue patent leather belt and she wore bright red skinny jeans with black pumps. Where do you even get red jeans? Basically, she looked like a vixen off the pages of a 1950s Playboy magazine.

I, on the other hand, didn't give a shit what I wore tonight, considering I was going to be with Jake. So I wore my old ripped and faded Levi's, that I stole from a guy years ago, a white cotton button-down shirt that I knotted at the wait, and a pair of Bedazzled Converse my mom made me. Next to Maria, I looked twelve and virginal.

I groaned inwardly and took a big gulp of my drink.

Emmett finally appeared from the cellar carrying a case of Sam Adams on his shoulder. He latched the door with his foot and set the case of beer on the bar.

"Dude." He nodded toward the man sitting next to me who turned around and nodded back.

"Em, how ya been?"

Emmett didn't acknowledge his question and stole a glance over at the pool tables. I followed his line of sight and found that he was looking at Jake and Maria.

"Why did you bring her here?" Emmett asked gruffly.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's just a drink, Em."

"Her idea or yours?"

"Does it look like her idea?" The man gestured over to Jake, who had his hand on Maria's ass. Wasn't Jake just complaining that he was going to have to _work_ for it earlier? Maria looked like a sure bet. "I'm staying with her, I drove tonight; she didn't have a choice. I wanted to see you. Say hello."

"Hello." With that, Emmett turned and went back into the kitchen.

"Fuck," the man hissed under his breath.

I felt like I just intruded on a very serious conversation I knew nothing about. This was very awkward.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say.

The man rubbed the back of his neck as he turned back to me. "Don't be. I told you he's a moody, crabby bitch. So, what's your name?"

I swallowed another sip before telling him, "Bella."

The man's eyebrows almost touched his hairline. "Bella, huh? You know that means…"

I stopped him before he could go further. I'd been down this road before and I'd heard all the pick-up lines from men educated enough to know what Bella meant in Italian.

"Beautiful, yep, I know what it means," I clipped. "Pick-up lines, remember?"

The man shook his head, with a snort. "I was going to say, that means it's short for Isabella, right? But I take it you heard the beautiful thing a lot."

I felt my face redden with embarrassment. "Yeah, more than I can count. My mom is Italian of decent and named me and my sister Italian names. Mine means beautiful and my sister… her name_ meant_ gracious God.

The man looked pensive. Instantly, I dropped my eyes. Fuck…I said _meant_.

"Is she deceased?"

This was not where I wanted our talk to go. I nodded and tried to take the attention off of me, which was unlikely since this God-like man was staring at me so intently, waiting for me to explain that my sister, Gianna was dead.

"So, what's your name?" I picked up my drink, sipping through the straw and averting my eyes. The man seemed to notice my discomfort. I looked over to Jake, who hadn't missed me in the ten minutes I'd been gone, to see his hand on Maria's hip as he whispered in her ear while she tried to played pool. My pool game was stolen.

"People call me Whit."

I glanced back at him. Whit? Odd name.

But he had said, "People call him Whit" not that his name _was _Whit. I wanted to ask him about that, but looking at him, his eyes now easy-going and friendly I let it go. If he wasn't going to pry into my reluctance to talk about Gianna, then I wasn't going to ask about his name. Maybe we both had secrets to hide.

I stuck out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Whit."

Whit shook my hand firmly. "You too, Bella. It's always nice to talk to a beautiful woman when I come back home." His hand was rough and big. Double yummy.

"Back home? Where do you live?" I asked, draining the last of my drink. I peered down at my hand, shaking it; the ice clinked at the bottom of the glass. Where did it all go?

"Chicago."

Whit noticing my empty glass waved a hand at Liam for another round since his drink was gone as well. After our order had been placed, he lit up another smoke and offered me one. I smoked but had been trying to quit for a few weeks. I took one out of habit, completely absorbed in this man. His flicked open his Zippo and settled the flame level with my face so I could light up, but stopped just before I could bring the cig to my face.

"There's a proper way of lighting a woman's cigarette, the gentlemanly way. Back in the old black and white film days, the good years, you wouldn't catch a screen legend not doing this for his leading lady."

I blushed at his chivalrousness. Whit seemed to have something going for him. His swagger made me melt, the way he spoke to me caused butterflies, and the way he sat close; breathing me in was enough to make me want to see him more than once. Twenty minutes with the man and I was already considering breaking my own rules.

I batted my lashes and asked, "Will you please show me the proper way to light a woman's cigarette?"

Whit grew serious and edged his way closer and I settled my knees between his. "It's quite seductive; it'll make you want to go home with me tonight. Are you sure you can handle that?"

I placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing slow circles. He looked down at my hand and back into my eyes. "I can handle a lot," I whispered for only him to hear.

Whit chuckled and bit his lip. "We'll have to see about that." He cleared his throat and sat up a bit. "Now, hold your cigarette right here," he instructed me to hold it to my lips. He flicked open his Zippo and lit it. "Put your hand on mine while I hold the flame to your cig." I wrapped my hand over his which held his Zippo. His hand was smooth and warm. "The whole time you're touching my hand keep eye contact with me." I again did as he asked and gazed into his light-blue eyes. His blond, wavy hair flopped against his temple as he minutely shook it from blocking his eye. I found myself getting lost in his gaze. His long black lashes fluttered as he blinked, and his heavy lids beckoned me.

"Bring your cigarette to your lips and slowly lean forward to light it, keeping your eyes on mine. When you're ready to light up, glance at the flame, line up your smoke and inhale." I did as he told me and inhaled the smoke into my mouth. "When you're lit look back into my eyes and blow your smoke out." When I focused back on his eyes, he was staring intently at my mouth. I smiled shyly and he closed his Zippo. We both leaned back, taking a drag from our respective cigarettes. It almost felt post-coital.

"And that's the proper way."

"You're right. Seductive," I admitted. The air between us was thick with desire from both of our ends. I wanted him. He was sexy, charming, and not a bullshitter. We didn't break eye contact as we continued to smoke. Just watching his lips curve around the cig was going to cause me to orgasm. I was done for. And when he wet his lips and I bit back a moan, I could tell he was done too.

Whit stood up, stubbed out his smoke and threw two twenties onto the bar. He bent down close to my ear, placing his hands on my waist. "Let's get out of here."

I couldn't get up fast enough. I stumbled to my feet and Whit held me by the elbow, steadying me. "I need to tell my friend." I glanced over toward the pool tables, seeing two middle-aged blue-collar types starting a game.

My brows furrowed. "Where….?"

"He left with Maria about five minutes ago."

I gaped. "That jerk! He could have told me."

Whit put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. "I have a pretty good idea where they went. She's probably using my car."

I threw him a disgusted look. I may only do one-night stands, but I wouldn't stoop to fucking in a car. Besides, I got caught one too many times by my father. I had a complex.

Whit slipped his hand in mine as we exited River City. "Don't hate on Maria. She has this thing with bringing people back to her place."

"Says her 'sometimes' boyfriend," I played with him.

He smiled. "Oh, the jealous type, I see."

I stopped on the sidewalk in front of my car and shook my head. He hit a nerve. I didn't do jealous. I dropped his hand and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling uncomfortable talking about the possibility of Whit and Maria "sometimes" being together. Maybe I was jealous. It was a foreign emotion to me. I kept myself so numb when it came to feelings yet this man just walked into my life literately an hour ago, and I was already harboring resentment for a woman who did the same thing I always did. Except this was Whit and there was something about him that I just liked. He made this, whatever I was feeling, so easy. I couldn't explain it. And I didn't want to face it. Whit wasn't going to be anything more than just a one-nighter. I couldn't afford to lose myself.

"I'm not jealous, really. I'm just…I don't know what I feel."

Whit gently pried my arms apart and set them leisurely around his neck, his eyes focused on mine. He pulled me closer using his grip on my hips and dipped his head low. "Hey," he whispered, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

I shook my head, my nose brushing his. "Nothing, it's nothing. Let's go, okay?"

Whit's lips thinned, knowing I was keeping what I was feeling to myself. What did he expect me to do, admit my whole life story? I barely knew the man, yet I was fully prepared to fuck him silly.

God.

"Okay, but …just….let me do this first." He leaned closer, his breath washing over my face, his nose nudging mine. His body pressed into mine, my arms tightened around his neck as I helped him and closed the distance to my lips. Our heads tilted to get a better grasp on our melding lips. Whit's were so soft and plump as they moved over mine. I tasted the whisky and smoke on his breath, the mixture intoxicating to me. Our tongues played together slowly and sensually. He cupped my face with one hand and guided his tongue further into my mouth. I moaned because I loved when my face was being held in the midst of passion. He breathed me in as we both tugged and stirred our bodies together. The heat was building up, and I was enjoying the way I felt under his touch so much.

"Fuck, Bella. You taste so good." He kissed me again, roughly. "I want to taste you all over."

"Mmmmm," I groaned, my hand tangling in his waves of golden hair.

"When I first saw you tonight, I knew I had to have you. You amaze me already," he breathed, licking my lips. "You're going to be my addiction, my inspiration. I can feel it." Whit started running his tongue down the side of my neck. He gripped my hip harder, pulling me closer to his hardness.

"Keep doing that," I moaned with my head thrown back.

"I want your mouth," he told me, kissing me soundly. My whole body shivered.

Then a thought slipped in my head: _I could get lost in him._

It was as if I was splashed in the face with a bucket of ice cold water. This man kissing me so fervently, so avidly would be only trouble, I knew it.

I broke the kiss, my chest heaving. Whit touched his head to mine, his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

"What was that?" he asked. Whatever this was, he felt it too. "What are you doing to me?"

I held his face in my hands. "I don't know. This is confusing."

"I want you so bad."

This was too much. "I can't do this," I told him honestly. "I'm sorry if I led you on. Usually, I would be dragging you back to your place by now, but I just…can't."

Whit pulled back, desperately trying to read in my eyes what I wasn't telling him.

"Bella…"

I looked away. "You're only here for a week. Why start something now?"

"But…"

"I'm sorry, Whit."

He simply nodded and took a step back. The distance between us was already leaving me cold. "I have an early morning tomorrow anyway," he said.

"Me too. My best friend, Alice is getting married," I replied.

Whit inhaled sharply, which caught my attention. He then dropped his eyes and studied his feet."Take me home? I don't know how long Maria will be with my car."

"Sure, ya, okay," I mumbled as I dug in my pocket for my keys. I unlocked the doors and we both got in.

"Maria's place is in Lafayette Square off of Kennett Place," Whit told me as I drove off.

The ride was quiet. Whit kept tapping his foot tensely against the floor. I hopelessly wanted to pull over and take back everything I just said and bed him like he'd never been bedded before. It was also the first time I wondered what it felt like to wake up the next morning with a man.

I had to be steadfast. Whit wasn't in the cards for me. I couldn't let it happen.

He directed me to pull up to a three-story brownstone once we hit Kennett Place. I didn't turn off the car since I didn't want to prolong the goodbye.

"Thanks for the lift," he spoke softly.

"It's the least I could do," I answered, staring at the dash, my hands curling around the steering wheel.

"Look at me, Bella."

Letting my hands fall from the wheel, I looked over into Whit's steely eyes. He leaned in and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips. "Thank you for allowing me to have a drink with you this evening. It was a pleasure meeting you." His thumb brushed my cheek before its warmth disappeared and he exited my car.

Bending down one last time Whit said, "I come to town every three weeks for business. Maybe I'll see you sooner than you think." He smiled, closed the door, and tapped the roof. I watched him walk up the steps and into the brownstone.

Normally, I didn't have regrets. Whit might have been the first.

**A/N**

**True facts from chapter two**

**1: River City is a real life bar on the border of south city and the county in St. Louis. And it's a real shithole. **

**2: The Museum of Sex is a real place in NYC, although Whit really doesn't have any displays. (story purposes only, LOL)**

**3: My only regret wore a Black Flag T-shirt the night I met him. **

**So what do you think about Whit? **

**We'll meet Edward next chapter ;)**

**Twitter: Larin20**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hello again! I would love to thank MissAlex for the wonder and quick beta job. She's amazing and I can't wait to see you in July, babe!**

**Also big thanks to KlrTwiluver for pre-reading being a wonderful cheerleader. Hopefully you can make our trip too, sweets. **

**This chapter is for my hubby aka the Beav. It's his birthday today. The old man is thirty-four. LOL. He is my inspiration. ;)**

**This is a 75% True Romance.**

**Twilight is not mine.**

**Everything I Never Knew I Wanted**

**Chapter 3**

Peter Thorne was a very meticulous man: no hair left out of place, his clothes were always pressed crisp, he had a successful career envied by many, his car was expensive, clean and waxed, and he paraded an ideal woman on his arm. _Alice._ His life fell into order just how he wanted it to, just how he planned it.

I watched him now – undetected – pacing back and forth in the vestibule of St. Francis Borgia's Catholic Church. Originally, the wedding ceremony was to take place outdoors at one of the local wineries, but due to the rainy fall weather, it was moved indoors. I was sure the change of venue royally pissed off Peter's perfect plan for the day. I felt bad for Alice though. This type of wedding was never what she envisioned. She told me she dreamed of a beach wedding faraway from everyone and everything, only her loved ones attending. But that would never satisfy Peter. He had people to impress and an extravagant wedding was an ideal occasion.

I scowled at him as I shook my umbrella and placed it in the umbrella stand by the grand innately, carved wooden doors of the church.

This place was very cold and dreary. Just like Peter.

Ass.

Peter and I had a hate/hate relationship. I hated the way he treated Alice like a possession and he hated that Alice would rather spent time with me than his business associates' wives. He was such a dick. I saw right through him and unfortunately he saw through me as well. I was nothing more than a slut in his eyes, a bad influence for his Alice and definitely a social eyesore to his friends. Too bad I fucked two of those business associates he tried so hard to keep me from. The difference between me and Peter was that I didn't hide that I slept around. Sure, I didn't broadcast it, but I wasn't ashamed. But that's not to say it didn't make me mad he called me a slut. So when I called him a closet flamer, he was appalled.

I mean, come on! The man was clearly gay.

Alice was a little peeved when I did that, but quickly got over it. She knew the man manscaped more than a woman, _womanscaped_; it was inevitable that someone would think he was gay.

I still had a hunch that he was switch-hitting, at least, if he wasn't straight batting for the opposite team.

Peter still hasn't noticed me. I appraised him as he wore a groove into the marble floor from his pacing. He was, of course, dressed to the nines in his tux - that I was sure he owned – his pretty Italian designer-clad feet clicked on the shiny floor, and I forced myself not to laugh when I noticed that he was walking with a sleek, black cane, no doubt a gift from his Savile Row educated personal shopper. Just throw in a top hat and monocle and Peter would have looked like the millionaire from the Monopoly board game.

The façade didn't fool me. Peter came from the country and tried hard to shed the image of his hillbilly roots. Not that his roots were anything to make fun of. He grew up on a palatial estate outside of Washington, Missouri. Peter was well-educated, attending private Catholic schools his whole life, and having personal tutors during his summers. The Thornes treated their only son like gold, but that never seemed to be enough for Peter as Alice told me. She shared with me that Peter felt trapped, always obligated to carry on his family business after his father retired. Alice's family also owned a successful estate in Washington, making them perfectly suited in his eyes. Whereas Peter was treated like royalty, Alice wasn't. Her family's only ambition for Alice was to marry well and bind the family businesses together.

Peter Thorne was the perfect match.

Having being thrust together at such a young age, Alice and Peter always gravitated toward one another, knowing no other way. Alice was a comrade in the only life he knew, a life of privilege and expectations. It was a life that he never wanted. His family were multi-million dollar horse breeders and trainers. They trained some of the best racing horses in the mid-west. His family's horses won numerous titles and ribbons with a number of thoroughbreds at Churchill Downs, Belmont Park, Saratoga, and Del Mar - just to name a few.

But Peter never loved the horses like his family did. He resented them. I didn't know why. Alice never really talked about that side of Peter, and frankly, I didn't care much to ask.

I sighed. Peter's pacing was starting to grate on me. I guessed I needed to break the silence and say something.

"You look a little worried there, Pete."

Peter stopped mid-stride and glared at me. "Oh, it's you." He sniffed and straightened his coat, ignoring my comment. "Why are you here so early?"

I looked at my watch. "I'm only two hours early, that's late in Alice's mind." I laughed. He rolled his eyes at me, so I narrowed mine at him. "But since I'm here so early, it gives me time to talk some sense into her."

His distaste was apparent. "It's much too early in the morning for your off-kilter humor. I suggest you scurry along and find Alice. I'm sure she needs help or whatever it is she thinks she needs from you."

He motioned with his hands to dismiss me, like he was the fucking Queen of America or something, and started to pace again.

Pompous motherfucker. Jeebus! I was a damn sailor this morning with my mouth.

_Be nice, Bella. It is his wedding day. You're a lady whether he thinks it or not. _

"You look very nice by the way," I said, trying to hide that my praise was a complete lie.

Peter stopped pacing and gave me the once over. "You look…..presentable."

"Gee, thanks," I replied. Presentable? I looked good. My black wrap dress hugged my curves perfectly and for once I wasn't in sweats – to Alice's request. I even had on heels.

"When you see Alice in the woman's lounge, make sure to tell her to wear my mother's pearls. I would like to see them on her today." With that, Peter strode out of the vestibule and through a door marked men's lounge.

I guessed that was an order and not a request. Why was Alice marrying him again?

With Peter's request of his mother's pearls conveniently forgotten, I made my way down a tangled web of hallways to the woman's lounge. I knocked on the door before letting myself in. What I found was not a blushing bride. Alice was alone and standing in the middle of the room wearing a white silk robe, holding a box of Kleenex like her life depended on them.

Hurrying to her side, I searched her tear-stained face, placing my hands on her shoulders and knowing I had to soothe her any way I could. "Alice, what's wrong? Are you okay? Where is everyone?"

Alice sniffled and dabbed her red nose. "I'm fine; it's just the jitters, right? Rose and my mom are checking on the flowers with Ruby. They'll be back soon."

_Jitters, my ass. _

Concerned, I took Alice's hand and sat her down at the vanity. "Are you sure, Alice? This doesn't seem like you." Alice let out another small sob, pressing the tissue to her puffy eyes. "Well, I would be crying too if I had to marry Peter, "I joked.

Alice huffed. "Oh stop it, Bella. Peter is a...good man."

_Good man? Try possessive, controlling, idealistic, materialistic, snobbish, and, oh yeah, gay. _

"He doesn't deserve you."

"I don't deserve a lot of things," she whispered.

I got to my knees and squatted down to look her in the eyes. "Don't say that. You're magnificent, selfless, my best friend, and a perfect mothe –"

"I'm none of those things, B."

"Sure you are." I took a tissue from her hand and blotted her mascara bleeding eyes. "I don't know why you can't see that yourself."

Alice eyes turned hard. "There are a lot of things I haven't told you. "

"You can tell me anything, you know I'm all ears." I smiled, hoping it would be contagious. It wasn't.

"It's too much to get into now."

I chewed my lip, thinking. "You know, I just so happened to have parked my car conveniently next to the side door of the church. We can slip out and skip this whole wedding business."

Alice started to smile but it quickly faded as her eyes trained on something behind me. I didn't have time to turn around to look before I heard a familiar voice.

"I was telling her the same exactly thing about an hour ago."

His voice was smoke, just a whisper to my ear. Utter sex embodied. I closed my eyes and hoped that when I turned around he would be just a figment of my imagination from last night.

Alice stood and I followed, still with my back to the man who wasn't supposed to be here. Frankly, I wasn't supposed to see him ever again. Why was he here?

Alice cleared her throat. "B, this is Peter's best man and friend, Jasper Whitlock. Jasper this is Bella Swan, my co-worker and other best friend."

I slowly turned on my heel with my eyes closed. I cracked one lid once I was fully turned about. Yep, it was him.

Whit.

All of him in the flesh. No figment at all. He stood leaning against the doorframe: hands in his tux pockets, shirt loosely tucked into his pants, no tie, buttons unfastened, blonde hair a wavy disarray, the same dusty-looking cowboy boots he wore last night, and a cocky grin planted across his face.

"People call me Whit." Jasper/Whit stepped toward me with his hand out to take mine. I placed my hand in his and eyed him. "It's nice meeting you for the _first_ time, Bella. Whenever I talked to Alice she had mentioned a friend named B. Now I have a face to the name. B. Bella. Beautiful." He winked and squeezed my hand.

Cocky bastard. He knew I hated when people called me beautiful. Wait. Did he say 'first time?' He didn't want Alice to know that we met before. I would play along for now.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you for the very first time ever, _Jasper_." I dragged out his name. Whit tilted his head. "Although, Alice has never told me anything about you before. Your reputation must not precede you." I squeezed his hand back and dropped it.

The cocky smiled spread even wider across Whit's face. He was enjoying this.

"Bella, Jasper, here, is an artist," Alice added, making polite conversation, I supposed.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Art, huh? You look like you could paint within the numbers well. Let me guess, water colors are your medium. Perhaps you can paint landscapes with little happy trees like the guy with the 'fro on PBS."

"B!" Alice jabbed my arm.

Whit chuckled. "It's all right, Alice." He locked eyes with me. "Actually, I sculpt and weld. It's a very hot and dirty job."

I smirked. "I bet."

"I should show you my work sometime."

"I'm sure you would like that," I played along.

Alice's head was playing ping pong with the back and forth between me and Whit. "Can you please rein it in, both of you?" she demanded.

"Sorry, sorry." Whit placed his hands behind his back.

Alice gave Whit a look then said, "B, Jasper is Peter's best man, like I said before. He's from Chicago, although he grew up with both Peter and I. His family has a large furni-"

Whit clucked his tongue. "Ah, enough about me, where were you before I rudely interrupted?

I went to hold Alice's hand. "Alice was upset. I was trying to make her feel better. She has the jitters."

"Jitters? Is that what you call it?" Whit questioned Alice.

Alice gritted her teeth. "Yes, Jasper, that's all I call it."

I looked at them both, confused.

"I think I walked in on Bella trying to stage a wedding coup if you asked me. Trying to make a getaway?"

"I was just trying to make her laugh, so she wouldn't cry. No wedding coup here," I tried to explain with a nervous chuckle.

Whit tsked me and tapped his chin. "But, Bella, I do believe you were onto something."

Alice placed her hands on her hips. "Jasper, stop it."

Ignoring her, Whit continued in an authoritative tone. "Topic at hand: Wedding Coup, Operation Leave Peter at the Alter." He turned to me. "Bella, you will be my second in command. Your objective is: getaway car. I, being mission leader, will create a diversion, probably something like dangling money in front of Peter's face, which should distract him." Whit turned back to Alice. "Tiny, all you need to do is run when I yell 'the eagle has landed'. Got it?"

I started to laugh but when I saw that Alice shooting daggers at Whit, I held it in.

"You think my life is funny, don't you, Whit?" Alice growled.

"Not at all, Tiny." Whit shook his head. "Just trying to make light of the situation."

"It's a wedding, Whit. Make light of it? It's as bright as the freaking sun!"

"That's my problem with it, Alice," Whit countered back.

Suddenly, I felt like an intruder on a private conversation.

"We both know that's not your only problem."

"What do you want me to do about it? Huh?"

"Nothing. I want you to do nothing. Like always."

"Don't even push that shit on me, Alice."

"I don't have to. Your pile of shit's a mile high and you drowned in it a long time ago without me helping."

"God, you're such a fucking bitch. Marry that limp dick for all I care." Whit dragged a hand through his unruly hair and said, "See you later, Bella."

I stared in shock, nodding numbly at Whit.

"Happy life, happy wife," Whit said to the room as he turned and headed for the door.

"At least I'll be happy, you miserable creep!" Alice squeaked.

"Keeping lying to yourself, Tiny," Whit shouted as he slammed the lounge door.

I stared wide-eyed at the closed door, wondering what in the hell I just witnessed. Alice slumped back down into her vanity chair, defeated.

"I thought you said they were best friends?" I asked referring to what Whit said about Peter's limp dick. It was obvious that there was some resentment there.

"They are or where. It's complicated, I guess. Jasper is his oldest friends outside of me. It was an easy call to make him best man, to Peter, at least. I thought it was a bad idea. His other friend, Garrett is much closer to Peter. "

"How come you never talked about Whit or…Jasper before?"

Alice dapped at a new batch of tears that streamed down her face. "Jasper is…difficult. He hasn't been around for the last couple of years. So, he's….angry…at a lot of things." Alice shook her head, her tears now gone. "Jasper is like a tornado, always stirring up trouble when he decides to come around. "

I looked at the door that Whit slammed. "It seems so."

Alice sighed. "Yeah."

"Is there something going on with you two that I should know about?" I asked as I sat down next to her at the vanity. "Because you two seemed really…intense."

Alice sat up straight and started fiddling with the makeup on the vanity.

"Nope. Jasper is a fucked up asshole that likes to put in his two cents where it's not wanted. "

Alice patted powder to her nose. I place a hand on her arm. "Are you sure about that?"

Without looking at me, she said, "I've known Jasper as long as I've known Peter. So he likes to think that he's allowed to have an opinion on my life. It may have been true if he decided that he cared about my life more than just one and a half hours before my wedding."

Alice aggressively applied blush to her cheeks, her hand holding the brush so tightly that it looked like it would break.

"You know, it's okay if you don't want to go through with the wedding," I told her. "We can leave and take Ruby. You can stay at my house. My parents won't mind. They love you guys."

Alice slammed her brush down the vanity. I jumped.

"You want me to leave my wedding and the man I'm marrying to do what, Bella? Become like you. Live for nothing, love no one, fuck every guy that I see. Such a good example I will set for my daughter. I'll teach her about condoms now that she's three, better safe than sorry, right, Bella? No attachments, means no hurt. What a way to live. Gianna would hate to see how you are living."

I couldn't look her in the face. If I did, I would have punched her lights out.

"I can't believe you just said all that," I seethed. "Gianna has nothing to do with this. You don't know anything."

"And neither do you," Alice spat.

I looked at her, astonished. "Who are you right now? I'm only trying to help you. I care about you and Ruby."

"If you care so much then please respect it's my wish to marry Peter. He's a good father, a good man."

And there it was. _He's a good father_. I knew in that instant that was why she was marrying Peter. Everything she just said about me didn't matter. I knew she didn't mean it. I just threatened what she cared for most in her life. Her child's security.

Alice settled her hands in her lap as she thought over her words again. "Look, I'm sorry about the Gianna comment. I shouldn't have said that. Or the fucking guys thing, too. I'm _really_ sorry. I'm just stressed out," she waved her hand in the air, "with all this stuff. I didn't want all this."

"Do you love him?" I asked bluntly.

Alice looked at me, tears building in her eyes. I held her hand and leaned over touching our foreheads together. I knew. She didn't have to tell me. Tears started to run down my cheeks as my heart broke for my friend.

"Mommy!" A small steak of white and red clobbered Alice, hugging her at the waist as we both sat at the vanity. "Auntie Bella!"

"Hey, munchkin!" I wiped my cheeks and pinched Ruby's chin. She giggled and pinched me back, smooshing my face with her little hands.

"Bella, you look so pwerty but not as pwerty as my Momma. She's bountiful!"

"You mean beautiful, munchkin."

"Thas what I said."

Alice smiled sadly at her daughter.

Rose and Mrs. Brandon walked in the lounge not far after Ruby made her grand appearance, each of them carrying a bouquet bigger than their own heads. White roses and hydrangea.

"Baby, "Alice said to Ruby. "Can you color for a little bit? You have your coloring books and crayons over there on the sofa. Mommy needs to fix her makeup and get dressed."

"Okay! But I be careful, right, Mommy? No coloring on my dress."

Alice smiled. "Yes, baby, color on the paper only, not your dress."

Ruby bounded over to the sofa and dug into her crayons. She was such a sweet little girl. Alice and Peter had her a little over three years ago. I had only known Alice a short time at the station when we both got jobs and she got pregnant. It was hard to think it had only been four years since I met and became fast friends with Alice. Ruby was like my own niece. Another thing Peter didn't approve of. But screw Peter. I spoiled that girl rotten. I love her like I loved Alice. When Alice said I didn't love anyone, she was wrong. Alice and Ruby were my family. I loved them with my whole heart.

Ruby looked so cute today, too. Her white flower girl dress had a bright red sash around the waist. Her blonde hair set in small curls all over her head. Her complexion still looked sun-kissed from the summer, and she had sprinkles of freckles over her face. She looked nothing like Alice or Peter. Both of them had dark hair and pale skin. Alice always told me that she was blonde as a child and so was Peter, that was where Ruby got her coloring from. If I wasn't at the hospital when Alice delivered, I would have thought she was adopted.

I smiled, watching Ruby dangle her feet off the side of the sofa as she was entranced with coloring. She was so happy about the wedding. I wished her mother was equally so.

"Alice, we need to get you in your dress so the photographer can take some getting ready shots." Rose, looking stunning, sauntered over. Her bridesmaid gown was red and satin and clingy. I was thankful l didn't have to be a bridesmaid; I wouldn't have had enough boobage to hold the dress up.

"All right, I'm almost down with my makeup."

"I thought you did your makeup an hour ago?" Rose observed.

Alice let her eyes drop. "I did, just touching up."

But Rose caught on. She was about to ask, I was sure, about how Alice looked like she was crying, but I interrupted her.

"Complications," I stated simply. Rose "A-ha'ed" to herself and let it go.

"Hey, B. I love that dress!"

"Thanks! Peter told me I was _presentable_." I laughed, hoping to get any kind of amusement out of Alice. But she had her sad eyes trained on Ruby.

Rose tapped my shoulder behind Alice's back. "What is wrong with her," she mouthed to me.

I shrugged. "Jasper?" I mouthed back in question.

"Fuck," she mouthed again. Obviously, Rose knew what was up between Whit and Alice.

I gave Rose the "what the fuck" eyes and she gave me the "not now" grimace. I was going to have to corner her at the reception.

"Alice, you ready to put on your dress?"

Shaking herself out her stupor, Alice nodded as she got up and took off her robe. I helped hoist the white dress over her head and secure the boning in place around her middle. The back had about a bajillion buttons and it took Rose and me twenty minutes to do them up. After the dress was on, Alice was ready for her head piece. She opted out of the traditional veil, and instead, went with a white feather that was attached and decorated to a hair comb. Peter was livid when she said that didn't want to wear a veil, but it was so far the only thing she was steadfast in having her way about. She looked wonderful. Right out of a bridal magazine. Perfect. Except it didn't show in her eyes.

I wished I could have done something,_ anything_, for her.

"You look beautiful, my dear." Mrs. Brandon approached her daughter and kissed her cheek. "Your father and I are so very proud that you're marrying Peter. He's such a good man."

What was up with all of this _good man_ talk? Did Peter brainwash these people? But then I got my second reason Alice was marrying Peter. Approval.

"Alice, what are you doing?" I whispered so that she couldn't hear me.

"I've asked the same thing." Rose leaned in and whispered back to me.

Before I could respond to Rose, I felt my dress being tugged.

"Bella, Bella! Look what I made you!" Ruby handed me a piece of paper with – for a three year old – a very impressive abstract design colored in oranges and pinks.

I crouched down before her. "Munchkin! This is wonderful. You made this for me?"

Nodding her head, Ruby said, "Yes! I'm a artist! Mommy said so."

I looked up to Alice while I spoke to Ruby. "You sure are, Munchkin. You sure are."

Alice avoided eye contact.

…

It was ten minutes until the wedding when I left Alice, Rose, Ruby, and Mrs. Brandon to find my seat in the church. By the time I made it to the vestibule, the whole church was filled to the brim. There looked to be only standing room left. I'd never seen a wedding so packed before. Usually it was always half-full but it seemed that the whole town was invited. Which figured since Peter and the Brandons were at the helm of the whole deal.

The church was immaculately decorated with large flower topiaries lining the aisle and candelabras lit across the altar. Dainty bows adorned each pew and a string quartet was playing in the corner by the organ, to bring the ambience.

_Definitely not a beach wedding,_ I thought.

I would have liked that more, sipping a Mai Tai on the beach while watching a couple wed, fun times. Especially if I could wear flip flops.

"Bride or groom?" a deep voice rasped beside me.

I glanced over, having not noticed the usher right away. "Bride, please."

The man's brows furrowed. "You don't happen to be Bella Swan?"

I smiled. "Yes, I am. "

The man smiled back. "Good, I'm Garrett, friend of bride and groom. Alice told me to have you sit with the family up front." Garrett offered his arm. "Right this way."

"Oh, I don't have to sit up there. I'm just her friend."

Garrett shook his head and chuckled. "No can do, ma'am. I quote, 'Sit Bella up by my parents and next to Ruby. She's like my sister.'"

I smiled at the sentiment. "Okay then."

Garrett grinned, happy that I acquiesced to Alice's request and sat me in one of the empty pews up front. There was still about five minutes to go before show time, so I people-watched. There were so many people; they all seemed to blend together. Most of them looked upper crust and well-to-do given whom the two families uniting today were. Nice tailored suits, expensive designer dresses and hand bags, four inch heels, handkerchiefs in pockets, bolo ties….

Bolo tie? Did I see this correctly? A man sitting on the groom's side stuck out like a sore thumb. Around his collar was a freakin' bolo tie! You know, the kind of necktie that looked like a thick leather shoe string that went around a man's collar and fastened by a large metal clasp in front; something George Straight would have worn in 1988. That was the kind of tie he wore instead of a nice silk one with a tight knot like most of the gentleman in the church.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. I couldn't believe I was seeing this correctly, but I was. The man had on a tan, old-fashioned country and western button-down shirt and- it appeared to be- jeans with a belt buckle bigger than Texas around his waist. He was sitting at the end of the pew so I could make out most of his attire. His foot was tapping to the music of the string quartet – well, his cowboy boot was tapping. They were polished shiny and black.

Must be his goin' out boots', I told myself in good humor.

I could see from where I was seated five pews up that his hands were huge and rough looking as they rested on top of his red baseball cap on his knee.

He wore a baseball cap to church?

As my eyes traveled upward, I appraised his appearance more. He wasn't bad looking. In fact, he was very handsome in an extremely rugged sort of a way. His reddish hair was plastered down and slick looking, combed into a side part and gelled. His tanned skin was cleanly shaven and unblemished with long side burns.

_Mess him up a bit and he might be all right,_ I thought. Nothing like I would ever go for though. He didn't look edgy enough. He looked straight from the farm. More like he baled hay an hour before he got cleaned up and decided to go see a couple gettin' hitched.

I wondered who he was.

Then I noticed that his foot stopped tapping to the music. My eyes darted to his.

Shit. He caught me staring.

He had really gorgeous green eyes, though, I noticed. Like _really_ green. And _really_ gorgeous.

I quickly averted my eyes and turned around. I felt my cheeks flame and beads of sweat start to form on the back of my neck.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered to myself I was so fucking embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't looking at me...

_Oh shit, I just said Jesus Christ in church! I'm going to Hell. _

I chanced a look back over my shoulder, just ease my mind that I wasn't the recipient of his attention.

However, he was still clearly looking at me, his foot tapping again to the beat of the strings. But now he had a sly grin on his lips.

Not a cocky smile, like 'I just caught you staring at me and I know I'm hot,' but a nice smile.

A genuine one.

Effortless, almost shy, even.

I smiled back just as shyly and turned to face the altar, just as the organ commenced, announcing that the ceremony was about to begin. My mind was still preoccupied with Mr. Cowboy though. I just wasn't sure why yet.

From the side of the church up front, a tall door opened. Out stepped the priest, Whit, and Peter. They stood in line, waiting for the procession to begin. My mind was so clouded with stir-ups, saddles, cowboy hats, bolo ties, and riding the big-handed cowboy himself that I almost missed the whole wedding procession coming down the aisle.

Rose and Ruby were already standing upfront when the organ starting playing Canon in D. That was our cue to stand and wait for the bride to come down the aisle. I stood and chanced a glance at Whit, who stood next to a very stone-faced Peter. He winked at me. I gave him a small wave and turned to look down the aisle to watch Alice. Mr. Cowboy had a scowl on his face when my eyes landed on him. Was he scowling at me? It sure looked like it. I scowled back and his face softened, but he didn't share with me that nice smile that he shared before. Instead, he turned to watch the bride being escorted down the aisle by her impeccably-dressed father.

Alice looked unbelievable and her father showed such pride as he held her arm. I thought that maybe she had finally warmed up a little and wasn't as jittery as before the wedding. I hoped so, at least. I didn't want my friend thinking she was making a mistake, even though I knew she was. But what was I to do about it? I tried to offer an alternative and Alice didn't want to listen. If this wedding was going to be a mistake, Alice would just have to weather it. I would help her as best as I could if the outcome wasn't good. Since I was in church, I prayed that God would give Alice strength and protect Ruby from sadness.

And have Peter, the backbone, to admit that he was gay.

But I knew every prayer couldn't be answered.

I winked at Alice as she passed me. She winked back and smiled at Ruby, who looked positively radiant with excitement. Seeing her parents getting married was the happiest day of her life.

"Who gives this bride to be wed?" the priest asked Mr. Brandon.

Mr. Brandon puffed up his chest. "Her mother and I do."

He handed off Alice's arm to Peter, who quickly looked at her pearl-less neck and glared at me over his shoulder.

"Oops," I mouthed to him for not relaying his necklace order. …

I would have loved to say that the wedding got interrupted by an act of God or Peter's secret gay lover stopping by to whisk Peter off into the sunset, in a controversial, yet valiant way like at the end of the film, _The Graduate_, but alas, it didn't.

Alice and Peter were now husband and wife.

Bummer.

At least Ruby was ecstatic. She hadn't stopped jumping up and down with glee since the ceremony ended.

"Munchkin, you gotta settle down. You're never going to make it to the reception," I told her as I held her hand. Alice asked me to keep an eye on her while she Peter and greeted their guests in the receiving line outside the church after the ceremony.

"I can't, Auntie Bella. I'm too hoppy!" Ruby giggled as she hopped. "I wanna dance, Bella. When do we get to dance?"

This girl was going to crash and burn by the middle of the reception. "Later, after we eat cake!" I said excitedly.

That seemed to appease her as she started to shout, "Cake! Cake!" while still tugging on my hand.

_Great, wrong thing to say to a three and half year old. _

"Ruby, baby, you need to settle down. We're almost done out here." Alice appeared at my side, kneeling down to talk to Ruby.

"Momma, Bella said we get to eat cake!"

Alice smiled. "Yes, we do, baby. But first we need to take pictures with Daddy and Auntie Rose inside the church."

A questioning look appeared on Ruby's cherub face. "You forgot about Jasthper?"

Alice stood and took Ruby's hand from me. "Jasper left, baby. He'll be back later." She looked at me. "Maybe," she whispered.

My crinkled my brow. "He left? Where did he go?"

Alice shook her head. "I don't know."

I hoped that he would be back for the reception. I needed to talk to him, clear some air. I wanted to find out why he didn't want Alice to know we'd met before today, and why he was so nasty to her earlier. I also still felt that crazy pull that I had last night with him, and I needed to see what that was all about. It still confused me. I was set on forgetting Whit last night, but life seemed to want him around. It was clear to me for the first time ever that I wanted to spend time with a man more than just in bed.

Frankly, it scared me.

Alice was right earlier about Gianna not wanting to see me live the way I was living. Maybe Whit was a way around this life of meaninglessness?

Whit told me last night that I could be his inspiration. That had to be something positive. Most men told me I had nice tits, not that I could inspire them.

I was going to ask Alice if Whit was going to come back at all when a soft, deep voice interrupted us.

"Alice, it was a nice wedding." I turned quickly and was face-to-chest with Mr. Cowboy. He was standing that close. He tipped his ball cap. "Congratulations."

I looked up at him. He looked down at me. I blinked. He blinked. He was really tall. And he smelled really good, like soap, but really clean soap. Irish spring, maybe. No cologne. Just clean, fresh from the shower, all naked and….

I shook my head.

Alice turned around so fast, she could have gotten whiplash. A bright smile graced her mouth, the first real one of the day. "Thank you, Edward!" Alice leaned down and told Ruby to find her grandpa and the little girl scampered away.

I looked stunned at Alice and took a step back, creating just a little bit of distance between us. Mr. Cowboy swayed in his boots in my direction but then quickly corrected himself, rooting his feet.

Edward? Mr. Cowboy was _the_ Edward Alice wanted to introduce me to? The Edward that would be "good for me," as she had said. I looked him up and down again. Did she not know me at all? Mr. Cowboy/Edward was not my type whatsoever. Sure, he was very handsome. But he still wasn't anything I would go for. At. All.

He wore a bolo tie for crying out loud. Did his momma dress him?

Edward cleared his throat. "I tried to find Peter but he's nowhere around here. " He looked over the crowd. "I guess I'll see him at the reception." Edward began to turn away.

"Wait!" Alice took my arm. "Edward, this is my friend, Bella." Alice winked at me. "Bella this is one of mine and Peter's friends, Edward. He grew up with us too."

Did everyone grow up here? I was starting to get a _Children of the Corn_ vibe going on.

I stuck out my hand. "Nice to meet you," _Mr. Cowboy…naked….smells of Irish soap….bolo tied down to my bed,_ "uh, Edward. "

Edward wrapped his massive hand around mine and my only thought was warmth.

Very warm, hot hands on me….

"It's nice to meet you, too, Bella," he uttered quietly as he firmly grasped my hand. I was right, his hands were rough, but not in a bad way. They felt strong. He then dropped my hand like a hot potato and started to walk way. "Well, I best be going..."

"Oh Edward, I wondered if you would help me out," Alice added hastily.

I could see where this was going already.

"Alice," I breathed, trying to stop her.

"Sure, if you need anything," Edward replied, postponing his departure.

"Well, I was wondering if you could help, Bella, really. She's not from around these parts and has no family around. Actually, she's here all by herself."

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh," he said, looking at his feet.

"Alice," I gritted through my teeth as Edward looked back up at me. I put on my best fake smile so I didn't seem rude.

Alice was relentless. "Bella could probably use some company until the reception." Alice squeezed my arm, hard. "If you don't have any plans for a couple of hours, would you mind, perhaps, showing Bella around town until six?" Alice pouted at me. "I don't want her getting bored in this small little town of ours."

"You don't have to," I interceded, which earned a harder squeeze from Alice. I had to bite my tongue not to yelp.

Cue the puppy dog eyes from Alice. "I would really appreciate it, Edward. Bella is like a sister to me and I hate to think she would be all by herself."

Edward scratched the back of his neck and then pulled out a pocket watch, checking the time.

How old was this guy anyway? A pocket watch? Really?

Edward looked at me. "If she wants."

Alice clapped her hands. "Oh, she wants, all right." She gave me a little push toward Edward. "Okay, I have to get back to my guests and then run and take pictures in church. Where did Ruby go, anyway?"

I tried to grab her arm, but missed. "Alice," I hissed under my breath.

She ignored me. "Oh there she is. Gotta go. See you to at the reception." She waved her fingers in a conniving manner and disappeared into the throng of people still outside the church.

I was speechless. Dumbfounded. Confunkled.

Actually, I was really fucking pissed off.

How could she just blindside me like that?

The air between Edward and I was awkward at best. He shuffled his feet while I fumed internally. He looked anywhere but at me, and I felt my blood pressure start to rise. My hands were in fists and if I grated my teeth any harder, I was sure I would lose some. I wasn't mad at Edward. I couldn't blame him. He was blinded as much as myself, and obviously too polite to have refused Alice's offer. "I'm sorry," we both said at the same time.

Edward smiled and I mirrored his expression.

"I'm sorry about her," I said. "I had no idea she was going to do that. Please don't feel obligated to show me around. I'm fine on my own."

"It's okay. I'm used to Alice doing that sort of thing. It's not the first time," Edward replied.

"Oh sure, growing up together would make you resilient against her charms." I rolled my eyes.

Edward smiled. "Not so resilient."

I smiled back. He was flirting with me. I might have liked it, maybe.

Edward turned and jutted his chin toward the parking lot. "So…?"

Feeling embarrassed that he felt he needed to keep me company just because of Alice, I shook my head. "Really, you don't waste your time with me. I'm sure I can find a library or coffee shop until the reception."

Edward sighed and squinted at the sun. "You coming?" He turned and started to walk away, completely ignoring me.

I hurried to catch up to him, my heels clicking on the concrete. "W-what-?" I stammered.

Edward stopped and turned around. I nearly bumped into his wide chest. "A library and a coffee, huh?"

"Y-yes." His closeness s was starting to have an effect on me. I could make out his toned muscles under his tacky shirt. My heart rate picked up.

I gulped.

"Good." Edward reached for the door of a beat up maroon Chevy truck. The door opened with a low moan of metal meeting metal. "Get in."

"B-but-"

Edward huffed. "You're from out of town, I'm not. I know where books and lattes are, you don't. Stop stuttering and get in." He pointed toward the truck, looking a little annoyed.

Not expecting him to be so gruff, I shut my mouth and got into the truck without a word, which was so unlike me. He shut the door and tapped the hood as he rounded the vehicle.

Edward slid into the driver's seat and started the truck. The inside of the cab was dirty, dusty, very tattered and used. I guessed the truck was an older model judging by the appearance. Mid-90s probably. A coffee can full of metal chains slumped against my feet, a tool box sat on the bench seat between us, paper receipts and manila folders were scattered on the dash, and take-out bags littered the floor. The diesel rumbled loudly as he revved the engine. I looked out the grimy passenger side window and saw Alice talking with a guest. I threw poisoned darts with my eyes at her and she met my murderous gaze with a proud smile.

I jumped in my seat when Edward turned on the radio. Very loud, twangy whines reverberated throughout the cab. "I hope you like country music," he spoke over the blaring noise, his green eyes soft and kind.

I groaned and sank lower in my seat, hoping that my ears wouldn't start to bleed.

**A/N **

**True facts from chapter three**

**The first time I met my husband was at my best friend's wedding. But I didn't speak to him until a year later. **

**I own a fab black wrap dress that makes me look smexy. **

**There are many multi-million dollar horse farms and breeders around Washington, Mo. Lots of snooty country folk. LOL. **

**I have posted a pic of a bolo tie in my profile, if no one knows what that is. It's just a fashion NO in my book. **

**Come tweet with me I'm Larin20 on Twitter.**

**I like sugar, leave me some!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you to MissAlex who came out of fic hiatus to edit for me. It's been a long time, but I've had a burst of inspiration. **

**Even though it was months ago, I would love to thank the ladies of The Lemonade Stand for nominating Everything I Never Knew I Wanted for fic of the week. I didn't win but that's all right. I was honored anyway. Also another thank you to IndieFicPimp for well, pimping me. LOL!**

The drive couldn't have been more awkward - from my end, at least. Edward looked altogether too cool, calm, and collected, humming away to the warbled melody of the steel guitar blasting from the blown speakers. I wished he would turn it down a little bit. I fidgeted, wringing my fingers in and around each other. There was something about this cowboy that put me off, but I sensed that maybe his cool façade might not be as controlled as he wanted to seem. He was tapping his thumb against his thigh almost nervously and definitely not with the beat of the music. He was also biting his bottom lip which I really wanted to not be entranced by, but it was useless. His bottom lip was so plump and pink, very soft looking…

I diverted my eyes right before he glanced in my direction. I could see him in my peripheral, his head trained my way for a brief moment before he turned back to the road; fingers still drumming the uncoordinated beat on his thigh. My face flushed, and a light sheen of sweat starting to bead over my upper lip. I hated this. Why did I agree to come with this guy? He was making me feel anxious. I don't do anxious. I do confidence. I do seduction, not sweat like a pig and have the tummy flutters. I discreetly dabbed the sweat with the back of my hand and started to fan myself.

"You're warm?" Edward observed, turning the radio down. I sighed in relief. _Sweet Jesus, my hearing might be saved after all. _

I waved him off, even though sweat was dripping down my temple. "No, no. I'm fine, really."

"Here, let me –" Edward hit the window button and both of our windows came all the way down. Immediately, a gust of wind swept across the truck, whipping my hair all over, thick pieces sticking to the sweat. "There, that'll do it."

Trying to tame my wild hair, I dryly responded, "Gee, thanks."

I guess he picked up on my sarcasm because his eyes bugged out of their sockets. "Oh, no! Golly, I'm sorry. Your hairdo or –" he gestured toward my head, "your hair… whatever is going on there, is everywhere. I don't have A/C, it broke last summer. I usually roll the windows down and I'm good, you know," Edward chuckled. "The heat or wind doesn't bother me. I always wear hats."

"I never roll my windows down," I replied. "It's too much of a hassle to keep my hair from flying all over." I gathered as much of my hair and held it in my hand like a ponytail holder. I harrumphed when wayward strands kept getting caught in my lip gloss and I tried in vain to blow them free from my lips.

"I got this." He pointed toward my feet. "You can wear it if you want to." Edward picked up a John Deere ball cap off the floor. He dusted it off by slapping it against his thigh and handed it over to me. I didn't know what to say, I was awestruck.

_He did dust it off,_ I thought.

At this point, my hair was a loss cause until I could find my brush so I accepted the hat. I put it on and tucked backed some of my hair behind my ears.

"Thanks."

Edward nodded. "You're welcome. I'm not used to having company with me. I wasn't thinking about…your hair."

"It's no big deal." I smiled for extra reassurance.

Edward spared another quick glance at me, a smile poking out of the corner of his mouth before he looked back at the road.

"What is it? Do I look stupid?" I tipped the brim of the ball cap down, hiding my face.

Edward coughed and cleared his throat. "No, you look good. The hat suits you."

My face must have turned pink because he started to backtrack. "I mean, it matches your dress. Black dress, green hat…_high_ heels…yeah, you coordinate well."

I laughed. "I don't think Alice would appreciate John Deere as much as you do."

"That's a safe bet." Edward's eyes crinkled with his megawatt grin. His face completely transformed when he smiled. It was almost alarming how good it made me feel. Warm and safe.

I shook my head at the thought.

So far, I hadn't paid much attention to where we were going. It seemed that once I sat in this rusty truck, all time ceased. All I noticed was that we left the main part of downtown Washington and were traveling down a fairly deserted country road. We passed farm houses and fields, horses grazing in pastures, and the odd mobile home peppered in the sprawling hills. I had no idea where we were going, and highly doubted that we were headed anyway near a Starbucks or the local library. Hell, I would have settled for Wal-Mart if it meant Edward could drop me off, and I could stop feeling this… this uneasiness, if that's what I thought it was. Either way, I didn't like it.

Maybe the unease was a giant flashing neon sing telling me I should look for signs of serial killer tendencies. Edward didn't look like a psycho, on the outside at least. It's always the quiet ones, I'd always heard. I mentally went through the contents of my purse hoping that my mace was still in there, just in case.

_Keep the guard up, Bella,_ I thought over and over. _You're steel, you're stone. Impenetrable. No man will get the best of you._

Then why was I swooning at how warm his smile made me feel and those lips?

I really needed to get my priorities straight. Was I, though? Nope. I was basking in the smell of him after he rolled our windows down and wondering if my breath smelled like the sun-ripened tomato cream cheese I smeared on my bagel this morning.

I discreetly cupped my hand to smell my breath.

I was good.

Edward reached over and turned the radio back on. I groaned. He noticed. Shit. "You're not a country music type of girl." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, not really." I shrugged. "I never could get into it. They all sound the same to me. Man loves his truck, his country, his dog, or his woman, whoever licked him first." I laughed, hoping he would follow suit.

He didn't. Instead his eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open before he completely changed the subject. "You know Whit, huh?"

"Huh?"

"Whit." He exaggerated the T. "Do you know him?"

I frowned. "I heard what you said, you don't have to act like I'm too stupid to understand you," I snapped. "I just wasn't expecting you to ask about Whit out of the blue like that." It was almost as if he was accusing me of something.

"Look, Bella, it's just that when I saw-"

"Yes, I met him recently," I said hastily. "He has been nothing but genuine and gentlemanly toward me."

_Well, he sort of was, if you call stuffing your tongue down someone's throat an act of chivalry. _

"You don't know him."

I scoffed. "And how is this your business?"

Frickin' weirdo!

Edward grunted and pulled into a gravel driveway. I looked ahead, still hot under the collar, and saw a quaint modular home at the end of the drive. It was the kind of modular home that looked like a real house. It had shutters on the windows and everything.

_I bet it has running water, too, _I joked silently_._

I snorted but tried to cover it up with a cough.

"You okay?" Edward asked, putting the truck into park.

"Yeah." I mocked hitting my chest with my fist. "I'm just getting over a cold."

_Total lie._

"Um hmm," Edward responded. He opened his door and exited, slamming it shut.

God, why was he so mad? What the hell did Whit have to do with anything?

I was left sitting in the car, feeling unsure of what to do next.

_Where were we? Whose house is this? Do I get out of this car now that Edward has proved that he could be a total loon?_

I yelled out the window, "What are you doing?"

Edward stopped, turned, and squinted his eyes toward the sun that had started to peak through the clouds. "You wanted coffee and books," he waved to the house, "I have coffee and books."

I opened the truck door and stepped out. "This is your place?" I asked, astonished. I wasn't expecting he would bring me to his house. Suddenly, I felt even more uncomfortable.

He took my astonishment as criticism. "I'm sorry but my sprawling country estate is under construction; this is what you get." He crossed his arms over his chest.

I felt terrible that Edward thought I was implying that his home wasn't good enough. It was actually really cute. The landscaping was neat and orderly, the lawn was mowed, and the home itself looked new.

I grabbed my purse and closed the truck door, walking up to him quickly. "Look, that's not what I meant. Your home is very lovely. It's just I wasn't expecting you to bring me to your house. I thought that you might take me to a coffee house or something. We're strangers so I thought - "

His arms fell to his sides, his stance less stiff. "You're Alice's friend, so we're not strangers. Besides, the local coffee house closed up and the library is closed after one. So…" He paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So…?" I said, urging him to continue. _What did the coffee shop or library being closed have anything to do with him bringing me to his house?_

"So… I have lots of books and I can make coffee. I have a little bit of work to do; you can have the living room to yourself and read. It's more comfortable than hanging out at McDonalds or some place for four hours until the reception."

I looked at the truck and then back to Edward. He looked honest enough. Alice wouldn't have sent me off with someone she didn't trust. As much as I really wasn't sure about being in a strange man's house, I had to be honest with myself; I did it all the time with perfect strangers I picked up at bars. Edward hadn't given me any indication that he was interested in me other than putting up with me because Alice asked him.

He went to unlock the door and looked at me over his shoulder. "I wasn't expecting visitors; it's kind of a mess in here." Edward swung the door open and allowed me to enter first.

Messy was an overstatement. His home looked immaculate. If this was his mess, I would have hated for him to have seen my place, or my room. Christ, I needed to move out of my parent's place.

The front door opened up to a great room that was furnished with a beautiful distressed black leather couch and a mint green accent chair. The coffee table was maple and looked custom as well as the side tables. He had stylish silver lamps on each table and a lone potted plant by the window. Of course there was the obligatory giant flat screen TV sitting on an ornately carved wood console. A bachelor staple that even this cowboy wasn't immune to, I mused. Other than that, nothing adorned the plain white walls except for a gigantic mounted deer over the TV. No pictures, no art, nothing, just a huge buck.

Lovely.

The open great room led into a decent sized kitchen that was pretty sparse in contents. It had stainless steel appliances, white cabinets, and black granite countertops, but it was obvious that either it wasn't used much or Edward liked simplicity. I didn't even see a coffeemaker.

"Ahem." Edward scooted behind me through the front door. I moved out of his way as he flipped on a lamp and threw his keys on the coffee table.

"Sorry." I stepped out of his way, hugging the wall. "You have a very nice place."

"You're sorry I have a nice place?" Edward looked quizzical.

"What? No, no that's not what I meant. I meant you…"

He smiled. "I know what you meant, I was just kidding with you."

"Oh, you're funny." I laughed a little more heartedly.

Edward smiled in return. Damn that warm smile of his. "Good. I hoped that I cut it."

I scrunched my brow and asked, "Cut what?"

He started to walk backward toward the kitchen while loosening his bolo tie. It was remarkable how different he looked without the tie with his hair all windblown from the open windows in the truck. He looked infinitely more handsome. "The tension. We seemed to have created a lot of it on the drive over here. Starting off on the wrong foot, and all. I'm not really so abrasive with new people. I'm sorry for that." Edward threw the tie on his black kitchen table. "And I don't bite. So you can relax." He grinned again as he opened a cabinet and took out a glass jar, placing it on the counter.

I put my hand on my hip and followed him into the kitchen. "I'm relaxed."

Taking two mugs from the sink, Edward started filling them with tap water. "Uh huh."

Letting my hand fall from my hip, I softened my posture. Maybe I was a little stiff. "I am. See?" I wiggled my arms and legs, loosening up my limbs. "Like Jello."

Edward put both mugs in the microwave and pressed a few buttons, revving it to life. "What flavor?"

"Excuse me?"

"God, help me." He chuckled. "Do I have to repeat myself all the time with you? What flavor are you?"

I rolled my eyes, and leaned my hip against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. "As I can recall, this is only the second time you repeated yourself."

"So stubborn, aren't you?" he observed, also leaning his hip against the counter, sharing a playful smile.

"No!" I lamented.

The raise of Edward's eyebrow told me he didn't believe me. I huffed. Really, though, I was as stubborn as an ox. My dad always claimed I inherited it from my mother. He said that it was so cute seeing my mom thin her lips, stomp her foot, and blow steam out her ears when she didn't get her way with him. Apparently I did the same thing, especially when someone challenged me, like Edward was doing now.

"Okay. Maybe a little bit." I admitted.

"So, what flavor?" Edward egged me on.

"I don't know?" I rolled my eyes again. "Jell-O's Jell-O."

"Come on, Bella. There's always room for Jell-O."

I laughed. He was cute. "I never really thought about it. What do you think I am?"

Edward took two steps closer to me, only inches away, and looked down at me. The mood in the room instantly changed. I bit my lip and hugged my arms tighter to my chest. "I would say you're like cherry."

"Cherry." I repeated.

He nodded, looking toward my lips for a split second. "Sweet like a ripe cherry."

"Oh?" I whispered. I didn't think I was cherry, but who cared? I liked the way he said it. Interested in what he would say next, I inched closer to him and dropped my arms. Our chests were barely touching, but the closeness still ignited a chill across my skin. My heart was beating out of my ribcage.

When did this conversation turn so heated?

As Edward moved almost impossibly closer and drew in a breath, the microwave dinged.

_Fuck! No! Stupid fucking microwave!_

He blew out a gust of air and said, "Saved by the bell." He stepped away and turned to get the mugs out of the microwave. With his back turned, I tried to get my bearings, placing a hand over my still erratic heart. I hadn't felt that kind of uncontrollable excitement around a man in a very long time. I quickly grabbed the dish towel on the counter and tried in vain to dab the flush from my skin. I then watched Edward unscrew the lid of the glass jar that I now could see had a Taster's Choice label.

"Is that instant coffee?" I asked, placing the towel down.

_They still made that crap? _I thought. O_nly my grandma drank instant._

Taking a spoon out of the drawer, Edward answered, "I hope that's okay. I don't drink coffee." He spooned some coffee grounds into both mugs and stirred. "I just keep this around when my dad comes over." Ah, figures. "I don't even have coffeemaker."

Taking the offered cup, I asked, "If you don't drink coffee, why did you make yourself a cup?"

Edward replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "It would be rude to let you drink alone."

"But you don't like coffee."

Taking a sip, he said, "I'm fine."

Bringing the mug up to my lips, I said, "Edward, don't be silly. I won't be offended if you drink something else. I probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't say you didn't drink coffee."

Edward shrugged and took a sip.

"All right, but seriously, please don't do anything special for me." I tasted the bitter coffee and grimaced. "I don't want to put you out. I mean, you didn't have to do any of this. You can drink something else. I don't want to be a burden on you. I know you said you had some work to do…"

Edward took two more big gulps and put his empty cup in the sink. "You're not a burden and it's just paperwork I have to get done in the other room. Come with me, you can find something to read."

"Okay." I put my mug on the counter and followed Edward down the hallway. As he walked in front of me, he pulled his shirt free from his pants, giving me a peek at his defined back.

_Damn. _

I stumbled over my feet.

Edward looked over his shoulder. "You good?"

"Yep!" I said too brightly.

"Here we are." There were three doors, two open and one closed. The first one led into a small bathroom and the other led into what looked like his office. The third room, I assumed, was Edward's bedroom. I wondered what it looked like. "Ladies first." He gestured toward the office as he leaned on the doorjamb.

"Thank you." I ducked by him.

"You can pick anything you want to read. I don't really have them in any particular order so you may have to do some digging to find something you like." Edward nosed to the stacked built-in bookshelves that lined three out of the four walls in the room. The opposing wall held a built-in desk and some more shelving filled with more books. He wasn't kidding when he said he had books. There had to be hundreds here. His computer and other electronics were scattered over the desktop. "I just have invoices to go over and payroll to log. I'll be in here for a while, but make yourself at home."

"Sure." I nodded and started looking at the books. Edward settled into the desk chair and started shuffling paper or whatever he was doing. He certainly had a wide range of books, from the classics to self-help to fiction. I stifled a giggle when I saw a book on the Kama Sutra. I peeked over my shoulder at him and wondered if he used it.

He also had a couple of knickknacks displayed throughout the books: an old baseball, a couple trophies, a picture of what looked like his parents, and also another picture of two little boys posing by a jungle gym. Their toothless smiles were as big as the sun, their tiny bodies dirty from play, and their arms around each other's shoulders. One clearly was Edward - the hair color gave that away - but the other little boy had curly blonde hair. I squinted a little, looking a bit closer. The blond boy looked really familiar, but I couldn't place him.

"You find anything?"

I shrieked and jumped a foot in the air, spinning around to come face to face with Edward.

"Jesus, Edward! You might want to make some noise when you sneak up on someone."

"Sorry. Did you find a book?"

"Um, no, not yet. I was just looking at your pictures. Was this you as a little boy?"

"Yes."

I was hoping he would tell me more, but he didn't.

"Is that your best friend or something? The blond boy?"

"No," he said rather harshly.

I blinked. "You're brother, then?"

Edward cleared his throat.

"A cousin?"

"Do you need help picking a book?" He grabbed a paperback off the middle shelf. "Here, this is the new Dean Koontz. I haven't read it yet, so let me know what you think." With finality, he turned and sat back down at his desk.

"Oh yeah, sure." I held the book tightly to my chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

He didn't say anything but his head bowed and his pen paused on the paper_. _

_So much for trying not to be abrasive, Edward,_ I thought. The tension was certainly impenetrable now.

What had turned his mood so fast?

_Whatever. I'm stone, remember. He's just like any other man, nothing for me to concern myself with. _

"I'll just go in the living room." Without looking back, I took the book and left.

**Trufax from this chapter:**

**One of the first things I saw walking into my husband's house was a frickin' huge mounted buck. **

**Hubs won't let me drink alone.**

**I'm so not a cherry.**


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